So I’m back in the states, safe and sound, although I’m very cold and have been kind of sick.

But anyway, a few stories from my last days in Senegal. Thursday we had our Wolof exam, and then we were done. Although some of us had papers left to write, but I had made sure to finish all of mine by Thursday. Allison was having some problems with her computer, her power cord wasn’t working so she had to go home to borrow her neighbor’s. So Ryan and I went to Caesars for the last time. When we were leaving, Ryan asked me if I thought this one talibé would want a t-shirt (she was giving away some that she didn’t really need anymore). I looked at the talibé and said, “Well, he’s not wearing one.” So she gave him a t-shirt.

Friday I went into WARC. I spent some time on the internet, and then we had a final goodbye dinner. Waly, Awa, and Adji, who all work at WARC, went with us to dinner, we went to this place called “Balajo” which was only a 15 minute walk from WARC. It was actually very nice. Kind of a yuppie-looking place, it had stuff on the menu that no one knew what it was. But it was really delicious, and it was nice to spend some time with Awa, Adji, and Waly.

Afterwards, Ryan, Allison, and I went downtown to go to this bar, which we had read had a panoramic view of the city. We went to walk in, and there were only three guys sitting there, watching TV, and it was all kind of dark. Apparently the whole hotel was actually closed (although it was weird that doors were still open so you could walk in). So we walked a block down to another bar, and just chilled there. Of course, we got harrased by guys when we were going in and out, people trying to sell stuff and also possibly grab things out of our bag. Ryan lost her insulin pump, and we think it was one of those guys. Although, we were trying to imagine their anger when thy realized the little electronic device they grabbed was really worth nothing, unless they knew someone who had diabetes, lol. But it really sucked for Ryan.

Saturday night we went to the French institute, which was of course delicious. There was also a movie showing there which was about travel in Dakar. It was a musical about traveling on the sept-places from Dakar from St. Louis. It was really funny for us, because we just kept thinking during the whole movie, “Yep, that’s so Senegal!” and laughing at transportation we recognized. When I got back to my house, Aziz and I went for a walk to the park and then just chatted for a while.

My host mom with the Cantonese Rice she made

Sunday, Ryan, Allison, and Bobby came over to my house. We shared all of our pictures, which took a really long time. Then we ate a delicious meal of Cantonese rice prepared by my host mom. We also took some time to show off all of our clothes that we had tailored, plus some jewelry, etc that we had bought. That was really fun. One of Aziz’s friends was there for a bit as well. He was one that had helped me with some computer problems that I had been having. There was also one kid that came over. His name is Mohammad, and he is friends with Aziz. He is about 13. He had asked me to teach him some English, or at least help him with things he was having problems with in class. But mostly, our review sessions, when they happened, turned into him asking questions in French. He came over, and talked to Allison, Ryan, and I in French for a while. At one point Ryan had to give herself insulin, and being that her pump was stolen, she had to use a needle. So she just stuck it in. Mohammad saw this, and his eyes got really big, but he didn’t say anything, and we didn’t explain at all. But the look on his face was priceless. Other than that, he was just his usual talkative self, and was really funny.

Some of our dresses, etc:

I have a bag made from Ryan's material

So much green!

Aziz is in his dressy outfit.

Ryan’s flight was the next morning at 6 in the morning, so she was just planning on staying up until she had to get a taxi. Everyone left in the evening, and then I just finished packing.

"Garage" where Babacar took his car.

The next day I went over to Babacar’s house. His phone was working, so I had his brother let him in, and I think he really disproved. But Babacar had to go to the garage to get his car fixed so he can sell it. So I decided to go with him so we could spend the day together. The “garage” was actually this piece of land, where there were sections where different people worked on cars. Each section was a mix between a junkyard and a car repair shop. For lunch, we went across the street to Cap Asie, this restaurant Allison really wanted to try, but we never got around to it. It was pretty good, and had a wonderful selection of nems. We went back to the garage. On the way, Babacar bought a BMW logo that goes on the front of the car, because someone had stolen his. I asked him if I should get a Mercedes one, and then put it on my car an tell everyone I have a Mercedes. I don’t think he thought it was that funny. But anyway, his car is all fixed up, and we drove around a bit then hung out for a bit more.

Babacar looking really excited in the BMW he is about to sell.

Chillaxing in some random car seat.

Then it was time for me to go home so I could eat, and then go to the airport. My family came with me to the airport to say goodbye. I forgot that you have to have a passport to get into the check-in area, unlike the states, where you just can’t go past security, but that is after you check your bags. So I realized once again that my white skin is a sort of passport in and of itself, when I walked right threw the gates, no problem, but security stopped my host mom and Aziz and asked them if they had a flight. So I said goodbye to Aziz and my host mom there. I will really miss Aziz so much.

So in the states, when they tell you to be there 3 hours before your flight, that means you better be there and check in at least 3 hours beforehand or they will get angry. In Senegal, 3 hours means they start thinking about checking in people 3 hours before the flight time. I got there a little earlier than I needed to, but I didn’t know how long the taxi ride would be. So by the 3 hour mark, everything was set up to check people in, as well go through the extra security measures required by the US. But then the staff had a meeting for 20 minutes, and then we had to wait for another 15 for an official police officer to show up to supervise the inspection of luggage. I think hypothetically, everyone is supposed to have their luggage gone through, but they started running out of time. So I went through that security, and then the normal security, which is twice as much as a I went through to get to Morocco. Oh having to travel back to the US.

So I finally made it on the plane, and it was pretty uneventful. We hit some turbulence, and at one point it was scary, because we hit turbulence, and the map showed us going over “Bermuda” and I thought, “Oh no!” but everything was okay, we just took an hour longer in our flight.

So I made it back to the United States and then immediately got really sick. It was quite unpleasant. I spent Christmas Eve in the hospital, because I thought I was getting better, but then towards the evening I felt so sick, and nothing else was open. They gave me a lot of tests, and then gave me some morphine, which just put me to sleep. Then I went and got some prescriptions from the only CVS open 24 hours, and then went home. I spent Christmas day really hopped up on pain meds, which was kind of fun. But the antibiotics started working really well, so I felt tons better. Then my sinuses started acting up too. But I think I’ve been sick enough to last me a while.

It’s been funny being back in the states though, the moments I haven’t been under the influence of narcotics. I went to a restaurant and the server came right up, introduced himself, took our drink orders, then later our food orders. He came back multiple times to check on us; it was incredible. I also went to Target, and there was just an entire drawer filled with change. I said to my family, “Wow, look at all that change!” Although a disadvantage of not being in Senegal is the loss of an ability to talk about people who are right there. A lot of times we would all just talk in English about say, a taxi driver, or anyone who was doing something we wanted to point out. But when I said this in Target, the cashier, who probably spoke English perfectly, or at least close, kind of looked weirded out by me, and I lamely tried to explain why I was so excited by change, but it was just awkward. Oh well.

Anyway, I’m enjoying being back in the luxaries of the US, but I miss the nice weather of Senegal. But I DO NOT miss cold showers...mmm I love hot showers. I guess the hardest part of traveling, though, is leaving little bits of my heart all over the world. I do miss the people I met there, both Senegalese and American, and it’s weird suddenly not being around them after a semester.